


Crystalline

by Starfeathers



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I love these two together, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Trans!Brownie, Vaginal Fingering, don't get me started on the dessert delight squad in general cries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 19:59:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16646747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starfeathers/pseuds/Starfeathers
Summary: Napoleon Cake had a way of getting through the smallest cracks of Brownie’s defenses, could see through him like glass.





	Crystalline

Napoleon Cake had a way of getting through the smallest cracks of Brownie’s defenses, could see through him like glass.

 

Maybe it’s because they knew each other so well by now—years of friendship built up here and there over the course of nearly Brownie’s whole life. Amongst his Master Attendant's book collection, diligently organizing tomes by letter and year, Brownie could listen to Napoleon Cake talk for hours on end when he came to visit, his tone passionate and teasing, commanding a presence that chased his loneliness away.

 

And somehow, he _always_ seemed to say exactly what Brownie needed to hear.

 

Back then, it was easy to discount Napoleon Cake. To pretend the piercing words so on the nose were accidental. But he’s not so naive anymore. Brownie’s tells were obvious to him even then, weren’t they? From the self conscious tuck of his shirt to the loving eyes he had for his Master Attendant. Napoleon always knew what was on his mind.

 

And now...

 

Brownie didn’t want to spend the rest of his uncountable lifespan behind empty bookshelves, rotting away with the dust and mildew of his Master’s dwindled collection. Napoleon Cake won him for his sweets, sure. But he knew deep down that it wasn’t just for that. Napoleon offered him an escape, an excuse to leave everything that troubled him so deeply behind.

 

An out from the life he held desperately dear but knew he couldn’t keep living.

 

If he stayed here, he’d be haunted with memories. His Master was so terribly ingrained in his heart that by then, the mere thought of losing him made the world turn a little grayer each time. He existed for him; to serve, to please, to answer his every wish and whimsy. But when Brownie felt the Contract give, felt it’s warmth slide away from his soul and leave him unbearably cold, it was Napoleon Cake that saved him from the emptiness.

 

Tears trailing down Brownie’s solemn face as he stood before his Master’s grave, it wasn’t with empty words that Napoleon Cake comforted him. There were no sorries or condolences, no dwellings or what-ifs, it was promises of the future. He let him mourn, but didn’t let him stagnate.

 

Even if that’s all he wanted in the days following.

 

Napoleon would speak to him brightly, eyes determined and smile like light cutting through the haze of Brownie’s suddenly so dismal world. Wallowing in his Master’s home, he rearranged the last of his precious books—barely a dozen—and sorted them every which way. He dusted them, stacked them, placed them back in by letter, then color, then thickness of their spines. Napoleon watched on from the couch, mouth full of pastry as Brownie toiled away at nothing but sentiment until the sun began to set.

 

“You’re getting dusty down there.”

 

And he was. Kneeling on the floor with his books, eyes wet and heart heavy, he knew there truly was nothing left for him here. “Where else do I belong…?”

 

Napoleon Cake grinned, crumbs on his lip. Brownie’s out was waiting for him, and he reached out and accepted it.

 

.

 

The inn they were staying at that first night was small but cozy, only a single tiny bed inside. Brownie insisted they saved money this way; he’d be dealing with Napoleon’s finances from then on, after all. He wasn’t about to make a nuisance of himself so quickly. The window seat would be fine for him to sleep on. Napoleon agreed, but with a catch. “You’ll need to do anything I say tonight, or we’re getting a double~!”

 

“This is for your benefit, Napoleon Cake…” He said with resignation, but agreed anyway.

 

He was ready for Napoleon to have him cook in the inn’s tiny kitchenette, and Brownie mentally steeled himself for the ensuing exhaustion. He expected to rush out for last minute ingredients before the shops closed. He expected to utilize the toaster oven to somehow whip up something decent enough to serve him. He expected the sweets to be dry or bland and the process would repeat itself for a sleepless night until they were perfect—

 

But that wasn’t what Napoleon knew he needed.

 

In fact, even Brownie himself didn’t even know what he needed until Napoleon pushed him down on that single tiny bed, leg between his, those lively, inviting eyes looking at him in a way that made him feel so, so weak...

 

Of all the things he could have expected, it certainly wasn’t _this_. Clothing was shed and Brownie could barely keep up in the whirlwind of Napoleon Cake and his wonderful, terrible, incredible hands. His body quivered with want as the other Food Soul touched and caressed his bare skin, left nips and kisses down his neck, swept him so far up and made him for the first time in what felt like forever _forget_.

 

“This is how you like it, right?” Napoleon purred in his ear, dragging his nails down Brownie’s side ever so lightly, just enough for a delicious sting to rattle him to the core.

 

Gasping, the sensations were foreign yet so familiar. It’d been a long time since he’d been touched like this, over a decade even. But Napoleon didn’t lend him time to dredge up memories, didn’t give him a moment’s rest before he brought a knee up further between his legs, pressed feather light at his most sensitive place separated by only the rough fabric of Napoleon’s pants.

 

He squeaked, one hand knotted in the bedsheets, the other smoothed in Napoleon’s hair. Aside from his hat hung carefully away, Napoleon was still fully dressed. But Brownie was almost completely exposed—nothing on but the black binder hugging his chest. He was entirely disadvantaged here, but he knew this was his friend’s plan from the beginning.

 

“N-Napoleon, you’ll get your clothes dirty like this…” He warned, years of service still built into him. He’d be cleaning those—!

 

“Oh? Will you be dirtying them?” His voice was a teasing lilt, breathy, and Brownie’s cheeks darkened, stuttering back, “I-I mean it's a possibility…!”

 

Napoleon chuckled and leaned in, capturing the other’s lips with his own. Stiffening, it took mere seconds for Brownie to melt with a desperate sigh, ran fingers through the other’s hair before sliding down to grip at his shirt instead. He missed this...

 

It was needy and hot, the sensations sparking down Brownie’s spine to pool like lava in his lower belly. Napoleon Cake tasted of his namesake—indulgent and gently sweet, hints of cream and almond so delicious on his tongue, and Brownie realized for the first time that he’d never kissed another Food Soul.

 

He rocked back against the other’s knee, a whimper caught in his throat, and he felt Napoleon smile against his lips.

 

“Someone’s eager…” He breathed, moving to nip at Brownie’s ear. Napoleon’s hand trended lower, over his bound chest to the flat of his belly, trailed and teased the sensitive skin at his hip with expertise. Napoleon could read his body like a map, traced each line and facet with calculative precision. Brownie almost felt jealous of how well the other seemed to understand how his body worked. 

 

The warmth of Napoleon’s fingers slid further, further down. Brownie squirmed and squeaked, couldn’t hold back the soft sounds from his throat. It wasn't until Napoleon began to press against his slick heat that the veil of lust lifted, just a bit.

 

“A- _ah_ , wait!” Brownie flinched back and pushed at Napoleon’s chest before he could think. He wanted this though, didn’t he? His whole body felt on fire, and he craved relief so badly...

 

Napoleon pulled back just a hair’s breadth, but he could still feel the radiant warmth of his hand so tantalizingly close. “What’s wrong, Brownie? Shall I stop?” Napoleon’s voice was confident, but there was genuine concern in his eyes.

 

“I--... I don’t want you to stop.”

 

Napoleon Cake raised an eyebrow, sliding back away from Brownie. The other sat upright too, scooting back and covering his chest almost shyly. He saw through him again, just like he always does.

 

“You seem like there’s something else on your mind all of a sudden. You can tell me!” He winked, waggled finger guns at him. The shift in tone didn’t match the mood at all, but that too was like him. Brownie gave a small, fond smile despite himself.

 

Though his body shook ever so lightly in need.

 

After a moment, he lowered his head and took a deep breath. His thighs were slick, wetness glistening in the dim lamplight of the room on Napoleon’s hand. With embarrassment he brought his legs back together. “I do want it, really. It’s just—the last time I did this was with—...”

 

“Your Master Attendant, right?” He answered for him. Brownie felt relieved not to need to say it aloud himself, and he wondered distantly if Napoleon could’ve guessed that.

 

Instead he simply nodded once, cast his gaze to the bedding. Napoleon Cake’s voice softened as he continued. “I’ll show you amazing feelings, Brownie. I’ll be the best at pleasing you…” He said, letting a hand wander towards Brownie’s thigh. His attention snapped to it immediately. “You’ll understand what it means to be my subordinate, and I’ll make you never forget it.”

 

Brownie gave a shuddered breath, nodding again. He couldn’t regret coming out here to be with Napoleon Cake. He was always unexpected, so different, such a bracing pace from the quiet repetition he’d grown around so firmly. Napoleon Cake seemed to uproot his longing misery every chance he got, forced him from placing his fragile roots down elsewhere before he was ready. And he liked it, somehow.

 

Liked it a lot.

 

And he also really liked the way Napoleon Cake was looking at him now as he moved back in, pressed Brownie down into the mattress. The blankets were soft and warm against his back, and he spread his legs for Napoleon’s hand to settle in between as he laid down beside him. He propped himself up on an arm, gazed down at Brownie’s beautiful body laid bare for him.

 

And he started to touch...

 

Brownie gave a soft keen. His clit was always so sensitive, and he shuddered in pleasure as he was touched for what felt like the first time all over again.

 

“You’re so wet…” Napoleon breathed, catching Brownie’s lips once more.

 

He kissed back with reverence, parted his lips obediently for Napoleon to explore him. The hot slide of his tongue against his made Brownie shudder, arch up against him, rub back on his torturous fingers for just the slightest bit more friction.

 

It felt so much better with Napoleon...

 

Napoleon pressed a little firmer, sliding up then down, and Brownie began to unravel more and more under the administrations. He bucked up his hips and moaned, inhibitions clouding as the feelings surging through his body grew ever more powerful.

 

It was with playful cruelty that Napoleon drew his fingers away with him already so close to the edge. Brownie watched with both intense arousal and horror as he brought the shimmering digits to his mouth instead, eyes glinting with mischief. “A-ah, why would you—!?”

 

“You taste amazing, Brownie.” He purred, licking the clear slickness off with slow deliberation. “Just like sweet cocoa. I could do this for hours with you if you keep tasting this good…”

 

Brownie’s flush somehow deepened, and he bit his lip and looked away. His Master had told him he tasted like that too when they traded kisses, but to think even down there…!

 

“Don’t look away from me, Brownie. That’s an order, you know.” The teasing was back, voice warm and soothing despite it. Brownie did agree to anything he wanted for tonight, but meeting his cherry-red eyes just then was almost impossible. “I’ll get to taste you like this as much as I want from now on, so you’ll need to get used to it, alright?”

 

The idea was as exciting as it was mortifying. Imagining Napoleon Cake doing more with his mouth made him squirm, sent a new wave of dizzying heat washing through him.

 

“I… suppose.”

 

That seemed to sate Napoleon, and finally he spared him. He continued to touch and rub, reduced Brownie to shuddering putty beneath him once more with every press.

 

His fingers slid lower, until they began to push in _ever_ so slightly...

 

Brownie wouldn’t consider drawing away again, but he couldn't stop his body from tensing. “A-ahh, careful… I- I haven’t been—like that before…” he pleaded softly against his lips, though there was no pain liked he’d anticipated—instead it was warm and filling, made a fierce heat coil inside him.

 

Napoleon Cake practically purred. “Am I the first to be inside you?” His eyes sparkled, Brownie’s cheeks darkening ever more as he nodded, squeezing his eyes shut at Napoleon testingly slid in and out of him. His walls were tight and silky, each movement squeezing Napoleon and drawing him in. Brownie’s voice pitched higher as he whimpered, arching up for another kiss.

 

And Napoleon couldn’t resist obliging him, taking over with ease as Brownie continued to make those gorgeous sounds beneath him, dominating his mouth and claiming him from the inside out. Brownie was his now, after all. He deserved to feel the honor that title brought with it.

 

Drawing back, Napoleon admired the pleasure written clear on Brownie’s face. His periwinkle eyes were half-lidded and hazy as they met Napoleon’s, so stark in contrast to his usual stern and attentive features. He wanted to see this expression more often.

 

“Does it feel good?”

 

“Y-yes…”

 

That was all the encouragement Napoleon needed, adding a third finger and twisting them up to rub all the right places that made Brownie unfurl. He kicked his legs, pushed himself up to meet his fingers as Napoleon started a pace, gasping with desperation as he slid out with fresh warmth to rub again at his neglected clit.

 

“I’m not- I _can’t_ , I—!” Brownie pleaded at nothing, knuckles white from his vice grip on the sheets. He came with a sharp cry, muscles shaking and tensing and draining the strength from his body. Napoleon kept touching, teasing, watching in fascination as Brownie’s now hypersensitive body shook and thrashed, every nerve on fire.

 

Time seemed to slow to a crawl—Brownie louder than he’d been so far, completely undone and shaking with the overwhelming pleasure as he orgasmed _again—_ before he reached his absolute limit. “N-no more, ahh! _Please…_!” he begged, face deeply flushed and every part of him exhausted.

 

Napoleon hummed, slid his fingers away with smug satisfaction. Brownie immediately brought his legs together, curled over against Napoleon.

 

A few quiet seconds stretched by before Brownie could begin to collect himself, for his treacherous brain to start working again.

 

“I- I didn’t mean to finish so quickly…!” He grieved, catching his breath and hearing his heart pound loud in his ears. “...I’m sorry, Napoleon Cake. Allow me to pleasure you back in a moment.” Every part of him was unwound, warm and quivering in the afterglow.

 

He hadn’t felt this unburdened in so long...

 

Napoleon spread his wet fingers apart in amusement, smiling down with the same brightness Brownie had grown to like so much. He was too spent to feel more embarrassed than he already was at the display, even when Napoleon tasted them again. “Don’t worry about it today, I’ve had my fun~!”

 

Brownie furrowed his brow, but couldn’t bear the thought of putting up a fight. “Are you sure…? I’d like to take care of… your needs as well, if you’ll let me.”

 

Napoleon shook his head. “You'll get to next time, okay?” He asked with a wink, voice still breathy but with his usual teasing tone back in place. His arousal was pressed against Brownie’s bare thigh through his pants, but despite the slight tinge of guilt Brownie couldn’t make his limp body move to do anything about it.

 

“...Okay.”

 

“But next time I won’t hold back, Brownie. Be prepared for it!”

 

Brownie sighed sleepily, closed his eyes again and pressed his face into Napoleon’s chest. He breathed in his sweet scent and couldn’t help but smile ever so faintly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

-

 

The following weeks were just as unpredictable as the first, and Brownie learned that he couldn’t fall into any particular routine. It was as frustrating as it was rewarding, but he never found himself disliking his position of Napoleon’s aide de camp. Glorified secretary, really, but he enjoyed himself all the same.

 

And true to his word, Napoleon _didn’t_ hold back the next time. Brownie’s voice was hoarse for days after, but he found himself yearning to feel those sensations again and again. Napoleon never seemed to let him down, either. No matter when or where it was that he wanted it.

 

Sometimes even in places he’d rather they didn’t.

 

Napoleon kept him on his toes like that though, and naturally he found himself looking forward to their adventures together, for their missions and travels and even days spent preparing cakes and treats in their many kitchenettes.

 

They never did end up getting a double room, not until far later when B-52 joined their team and the three of them couldn’t feasibly pile into one. But by then, Brownie had found himself so used to sharing a bed that drifting between sleeping with Napoleon and their newest ally didn’t feel odd to him at all.

 

The only odd thing was how... not odd it was. Intimacy had somehow wormed its way into his daily life, and he couldn’t imagine having ever had his guard down this much in the past.

 

Perched on the window seat of the inn as he cleaned their weapons that next spring, watching Napoleon teach B-52 the names of his favorite desserts and the best methods of eating each one, he couldn’t help but feel that _this_ was where he belonged. With this tiny team he grew to love so much.

 

And every day, Brownie felt eternally grateful to Napoleon for making him a part of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about NapoBrownie okay I love them \ ; w ; / I've got a bunch more of the dessert delight gang I've written that I might post if anyone wants me too ahhhhh


End file.
